


Like a NSFW PSA

by tuesday



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Adult Peter Parker, Alpha Peter Parker, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Knotting, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Tony Stark, POV Peter Parker, POV Third Person, Past Tense, Secret Omega
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-08 12:49:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18623623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesday/pseuds/tuesday
Summary: Look, if Peter had known, this never would have happened.





	Like a NSFW PSA

**Author's Note:**

> This was attempt one of my attempt to write a treat for Tony as a secret omega for smut swap. I felt like it needed more work to tailor it to the recip, so I ended up not posting it and instead wrote a new one (Step One), then held off posting until author reveals. I hope someone enjoys it. :D
> 
> Thanks as always to duck for all the encouragement. ♥
> 
> This was written a while back, so it is very much not Endgame compliant. Also, this is set at some indeterminate point in the future after IW, with the assumption that everything turned out okay. I wrote and am reading Peter as over 18, but I was vague enough you can do what you like.
> 
> Content advisories are in the end notes.

Look, if Peter had known, this never would have happened.

Wait, that made it sound like Tony's fault, and it definitely was not Tony's fault that Peter broke into his apartment in the middle of his heat and ended up knotting him like a NSFW PSA on taking your suppressants. That was entirely on Peter. But if Peter had known that Tony was in the middle of a heat—if Peter had known that Tony was _capable_ of heats—he never would have gone over there.

Everyone knew Tony Stark was an alpha. There was his relationship with Pepper Potts, the world's most famous and badass omega, even if ultimately it didn't work out. There was his stereotypical alpha tendency to throw himself face-first into danger. There was the fact that Tony smelled like an alpha, albeit with warm undertones that made Peter want to stick his face into Tony's neck. Everyone knew Tony Stark was an alpha, so therefore it should have been perfectly safe for Peter to go over there and check on him.

Worst case scenario, Peter figured, was that Tony was in rut and got really annoyed at him. No, wait, worst case scenario was that Tony was dying, which was why Peter had decided to check on him in the first place when all he could get out of FRIDAY through Karen was that Tony wasn't feeling up to answering the phone. None of the scenarios Peter mentally ran as he web-slung his way to the penthouse Tony kept in the city included what actually happened, which involved sneaking in the bathroom window only to get hit with a faceful of pheromones. Because Peter hadn't considered that, oh, yes, Tony could actually be an omega and that mouth-watering scent was not an amazing new air freshener, but rather an omega in full heat, instead of crawling back out the window he came in, Peter went into the penthouse proper.

This was a mistake.

The first sign Peter had that this was all about to go horribly wrong (besides that fantastic scent) was Tony whining like he was in pain. It was coming from the bedroom. In hindsight, this was a very clear indicator that Peter needed to leave. In the moment, Peter was worried that Tony really was dying or at least seriously injured and refusing to seek medical attention. Peter went to the bedroom door and opened it, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste to see what was wrong.

This was also a mistake.

The open door revealed Tony sprawled out in bed, naked, legs spread, face pressed into the pillow. He had a dildo buried inside himself, fucking himself with it. His toes curled. His head thrashed. He whined again. His breathing was hitched, uneven. His thighs were shaking. As Peter watched, he fell apart.

Peter should have left. Peter would have left. He definitely had plans to leave. Tony was fine. (Tony was _great_.) This was not a situation Peter needed to help with. (This was a situation Peter really wanted to help with.) Peter had every intention of marching himself back out the bedroom door and throwing himself out of the bathroom window.

Tony rolled over. He tipped his head back and scented the air. The tense lines of his face twisted over into confusion, and he opened his eyes. "Peter?"

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Stark! I didn't—I had no idea—I'm just going to go." Peter's feet refused to budge, even as he mentally screamed at himself that yes, it was long past time for him to leave.

"Or," Tony said slowly, the brown of his eyes a thin rim around all that black drawing Peter in, "you could stay."

"Or I could stay," Peter agreed, unable to bring himself to move in either direction, toward or away. In one last moment of clarity, Peter said, "But I should go."

"You should stay." Tony drew out the dildo, glistening with his slick, and set it next to him on the sheets. "You should come here. Right now."

"Right." Peter nodded, head light, face warm. "I should, I should come over there."

"Right now," Tony repeated, and Peter had no choice but to follow the command in that voice, feet taking him on automatic all the way to the foot of the mattress. "No shoes on the bed."

Peter took them off, and once he started stripping, couldn't stop, following them with the rest of his suit, his socks, his underwear, rushing to get down to bare skin as Tony watched with hungry eyes and an approving expression. Peter crawled into bed. There was a part of him that thought he could still salvage this. He just had to keep his hands and his dick to himself. He was just—keeping Tony company. Naked. In bed. Nothing inappropriate at all about this.

Tony wrapped his legs around Peter's waist and drew him into a kiss. Tony reached down and lined them up. Wet heat enveloped the tip of Peter's dick, and then it was sliding straight in, no effort on Peter's part, with one roll of Tony's hips. Tony flipped them over and started riding Peter, sharp, forceful motions that took Peter from half-hard to feeling like he was going to die. Peter ran his hands up and down Tony's sides, his skin sweat-damp and warm. Tony bit his lip, his eyes closed again, breathless little vocalizations spilling from his throat. 

Peter was past confusion at the fact Tony was an omega and beyond guilt at walking in on him, capable only of lying there and letting Tony take what he needed. It only took a few minutes for Tony to drive himself over the edge for the second time since Peter had showed up. 

Tony groaned and buried his face in Peter's shoulder. "It's not enough. I don't remember it being this bad last time."

"Can I—?" Peter asked, voice strained.

Tony huffed a laugh. "Knock yourself out, kid."

Peter got his hands around Tony's hips and fucked up into him, a torment and a relief. Tony was so wet, worked open like he'd been doing this for hours, and it was perfect, so perfect that Peter was having difficulty remembering there were two things he should be avoiding. Yes, he had failed at keeping his dick or his hands to himself, but it could be worse. So far, he'd kept his teeth out of it, and there was plenty of time to pull out before he could form a knot.

Tony licked at the side of Peter's neck, and Peter's next thrust knocked the air out of him. Tony's mouth latched on, sucking hard at the skin just over where a claim bite would go. Peter cried out and lifted Tony quickly, coming all over his ass and thighs.

Tony released Peter's neck and said, "While I'm impressed at your restraint and sense of propriety," like propriety or restraint were within miles of what they were doing, "I would have been just as happy to let you come inside me."

Peter lowered Tony carefully, and Tony went back to lapping at his neck. "Are you, did you want to—?"

"Going to have to finish that sentence if you want an answer." Tony's voice was oddly calm. "Or not. If the question is do I want to bite you, do I want your knot, or would I like you to breed me, the answer is yes, all of the above."

" _Tony_."

"The responsible thing to do here would be to tell you to get out while we're both feeling a little more coherent and our hormones no longer have complete control of the wheel." Tony scraped his teeth along Peter's skin, right next to where he wanted them most. "I'm not feeling very responsible. Are you?"

No. Peter wasn't feeling responsible at all. Peter felt like he'd been thrown straight into rut and the only thing that could help would be to bury himself in Tony until one or both of them passed out. In answer, Peter set his teeth in Tony's neck and bit down.

Tony hissed. "Good boy," he praised Peter in the exact same way he'd used on Dum-E in the labs the other day. Then he bit down, too.

Things got kind of hazy after that. If Peter had thought it was bad before, he'd had no idea. Tony ended up underneath him, legs around his waist and heels digging into his back, trying to pull him in deeper even though he was seated as deeply as it was possible to go. Peter kept trying, too, hips twitching like his knot wasn't already caught. Their bodies were sticky with sweat and semen and slick. Tony's neck and shoulder were red and purple with the marks Peter had left, circular little suck marks and more indentations in the shape of his teeth. 

Peter felt like he'd been mauled, his own neck and shoulders hurting in the best way. There were more marks on his chest, like Tony had given up on accuracy and gone for overkill. Tony was mumbling to himself, something about finding a way to stop Peter's healing in a limited, targeted way.

"Or you could just reapply your mark every time it fades," Peter said, in something approaching a clear moment.

"That's—that's such a good idea," Tony said. His eyes weren't quite focusing. "You always have such good ideas. I just, I just need to keep you here and keep biting you, so everyone can see you're mine."

"Yours," Peter agreed.

Tony worked his next mark into Peter's throat. Peter hummed happily and took it. Then Tony moved over a couple inches, and Peter was gone again, drowning in need, every touch and thought and feeling running into one another like drops of water tumbling together into one chaotic stream and pulling him under.

"Okay, I think—I think this is the last time," Tony said some indeterminate time later. Peter was on his back, and Tony was rocking on top of him, shallow movements that kept Peter inside. Tony's fingers were bruising on Peter's shoulders. "Just. Just one more. Give it to me one more time, Pete. Come on, fill me up."

"I'm not sure I can." Peter was vaguely aware that he'd popped a knot several times, only for Tony to tease him back to full hardness every time his dick finally slipped free. There shouldn't be anything left in him.

"Where's that can do spirit?" Tony asked. "Come on, Spider-Man. I thought you said you wanted to stick a kid in me."

Peter did, embarrassingly enough, remember saying something to that effect in the middle of round number two. And three. And four. Peter had said a lot of things, including that he was going to keep Tony full until he'd forgotten what it felt like to be empty. That didn't mean it was possible for him to follow through.

"Please," Tony said. "I need it. _I need it_."

Peter gathered his energy, marshaled his determination, and gave it to him.

—

When Peter woke up, it was dark out, and even his healing could only help so much with the full body soreness he was experiencing. Some areas hurt worse than others. "I think we broke my dick."

Tony lifted a hand and limply patted at Peter's face. "Shh, only sleep now."

Peter considered it, just rolling over and dealing with everything later. He levered himself up. Tony looked horrible and amazing in the dim light leaking in through the windows. He had mottled bruises and bite marks all over. His hair was a wreck. He looked exhausted and thoroughly used. At some point, one of them had wiped them down with the top sheet and shoved it onto the floor, but Tony still had traces of sex on his skin. He reeked of it.

Peter trailed a finger along the marks on Tony's neck, enjoying the whimper the contact drew. Tony slitted his eyes open. "Kid, as fun as that was, it is probably physically impossible for either of us to go again."

"Maybe." Peter had thought they'd broken his dick, but it was stirring again anyway. Maybe what was broken instead was Peter's sense of restraint. Tony's knees parted. Peter settled himself between them. 

"I don't think we could blame this one on my heat. That broke a couple hours ago."

"I didn't plan to." 

Peter pressed their lips softly together over and over again. Tony let him. Peter cupped Tony's cheek in his hand as he slid back in. It was slow, gentle, an ocean tide rather than a flash flood. It was quiet, Tony sighing against Peter's mouth. Tony's hands rested against Peter's back, not discouraging, but not pulling him frantically in. It was peaceful, and Peter didn't want it to end.

It had to, everything drawing tighter, closer, winding up until it felt like Peter's heart was what was breaking, enclosed in Tony's arms as he murmured encouragements in Peter's ear.

"That's it," Tony said. "Come on, honey. Let go."

Peter did.

—

In the morning, Tony didn't kick him out. He made them both coffee that they drank seated on stools at the kitchen counter. Tony had lent Peter a robe, but had only bothered with underwear himself.

"I'm honestly not sure which of us should be apologizing here," Tony said. He kept shifting on the stool like he couldn't quite get comfortable, and Peter was trying and failing not to feel proud of that. "There was a reason I told FRIDAY not to let me talk to you until my heat broke."

"If I'd known—" Peter started awkwardly, then, Tony's words catching up to him, "Wait, you gave her orders about me specifically?"

Tony looked down into his mug. He took a sip of it. He looked up. "Kid, you have to know how I feel about you. It's not like you crawled in my bathroom window on a whim. Speaking of which, really? You couldn't have let yourself in the front door like a normal person?"

"I don't exactly have a key," Peter protested on auto pilot. He cradled his own coffee untouched. "And, uh, actually. Um."

Tony stared at him. "You had no idea."

"You still haven't said how you feel." And Peter would really like to hear it.

"Did you—did you even know I'm an omega?"

"That was pretty obvious when I opened the bedroom door."

Tony slammed back the rest of his coffee like he wished it was something stronger. He stole Peter's right from his hands. "Why the hell did you come over, then?"

"You weren't answering my calls and FRIDAY said you weren't feeling well."

"Great. That's just great." Tony glared murder at Peter's mug and drained half of it, too. 

Peter ran his hand along the mostly faded mark Tony had worked into his neck. Tony's gaze moved from the coffee to track that, instead. "I'm not complaining."

"You got laid. What's there to complain about, besides your mentor laying in a claim when you were too doped up on endorphins to say no?" Tony looked like he'd decided where the fault lay and that it was entirely with him. 

"I bit you first," Peter pointed out. This time, he reached out to trace the mark on Tony's neck. It hadn't faded at all, was a deep and brilliant purple that was almost black. Tony would be carrying it for weeks. "I don't regret it."

"Maybe not now, but—"

"No." Peter slid his hand up to Tony's jaw. "You can be mad at me for breaking in and you can be mad at me for not leaving the second I realized you were in heat, but you don't get to be mad at yourself for doing something I've wanted since I was fifteen years old."

Tony swallowed. "You thought I was an alpha."

"Yeah. That wasn't a problem for me." Peter leaned in, not quite close enough to kiss. "If I thought I'd had a chance with you, I'd have been happy to bend over and take your knot."

"I don't have a knot," Tony said, like they hadn't spent last night proving that to Peter over and over again.

Peter stroked Tony's cheek. "That's not a problem. I just wanted you. Any way I could have you." Tony made a tiny sound of want, and Peter brought their mouths together. "Please don't apologize." Peter kissed him again. "I'm not sorry."

Tony kissed him back, again and again. 

If Peter had known, if he'd had any idea that Tony was in heat, this never would have happened. Never before had ignorance worked out so well for Peter. There was one last thing he did want to know, though.

"Hey, Tony?" Peter leaned their foreheads together.

"Hm?" Tony's eyes were closed. He licked his lips.

"How _do_ you feel about me?"

—

Ignorance had worked out for Peter, but knowledge was much, much better.

**Author's Note:**

> Content advisories: Age gap, one character walking in on another masturbating, dubious consent related to heat sex. As always, please feel free to ask if you have any questions or special concerns.


End file.
